God Really Must Hate Me
by gracie89
Summary: Sometimes Sam wonders what he could possible have done to deserve this. After a hunt doesn't go as planned Dean gives Sam a real fright. My 1st fic so any advice appreciated
1. Chapter 1

Dean was exhausted. Not in that 'gosh darn it, it has been a long day', but that bone weary 'my eyes are open but even I'm not actually certain I'm conscious' way. Had he not been with Sammy he might just have pulled over and slept at the side of the road. Sam's presence however invoked those _must protect Sammy _instincts, even if that was only ensuring his ridiculous giants legs weren't too cramped.

He felt a smile grace his bruised face as he remembered Sam's passionate rant about god hating him. Why else would he have given him legs that wouldn't have looked out of place on a giraffe? AND THEN forced him around the country in a car with the smallest leg space known to man? Dean was aware that Sam hadn't meant this to be funny but that hadn't stopped him laughing loudly and got a very cold look from his _little_ brother. Sam had only been about 15 at the time and Dean had still been a little bitter at being the shortest so he refused to feel guilty.

"What?" Came a voice from the seat beside him and Dean actually had to stop himself gasping in surprise at the sound

"What?"

"You were smirking at something … if your planning any more practical joke DON'T!"

"Geez Sam, paranoid much?"

"No, I just happen to have actually met you and know what you're like."

"Ouch Sam that really hurts" he replied putting on his best 'hurt' face. Sam just rolled his eyes and looked around trying to work out where they were.

"You feeling alright Dean, you're looking a little pale?" Dean was honest to God feeling the worst he had done in a long time. His head was throbbing painfully and he felt how thepiñata must feel at a kids party. Like he was ever gonna tell Sam that!

"I'm fine Betty! Stop worrying!"

"Betty?" Sam parroted looking puzzled.

"Trying something knew. I was beginning to worry you liked being called Francis…"

"Shut up!" Sam said looking outraged.

"Touchy" Dean muttered under his breath.

"Whatever, and stop avoiding the subject. I saw you hit that wall back there pretty hard. You really shouldn't be driving, I …"

Dean butted in mid flow with a serious tone, "Sam. If ever start willingly letting you drive my baby around while I'm still capable of walking, take me to a hospital because the psych ward is the only place for me!"

Sam sighed knowing he wasn't going to win. But they were stopping at the next Motel no matter what. Both boys were a little worse for wear, but Dean had definitely taken the brunt of it.

They had been working a job in Ohio, regular ROYALLY pissed spirit was destroying a young family with it's crazy antics. Chairs throwing themselves out of the window like some strange furniture suicide pact was not as fun as it sounded.

Whilst the had not been too hard by the Winchester standards, luck had not been on their side. Really with their third job in a row with no down time, Deans mishap had been inevitable.

He hadn't been paying attention when the spirit had snuck up on him and literally picked Dean up and lobbed him across the room. Accompanied by the insane laughter the scene would almost have been comical, had the sickening thud as dean collided with the wall. Sam had actually seen the exact moment Dean had lost consciousness, he had also heard the crack of bones breaking. Though his brother had made no indication, but the pained look currently taking up residence on his face, as which bones these might have been. Making a metal note to tae this up with Dean when they made it to a motel.

Sam glanced at his brother, it was at that moment he came to a horrible realisation, Dean wasn't awake.

HE WASN'T AWAKE!

Dean had his body slumped against the car window.

HE WASN'T AWAKE!

Sam wasn't sure if it was exhaustion or something worse that had caused him to pass out, but he had the sinking feeling that as with the rest of their lives, nothing was ever that' simple.

As he felt the car swerve violently out of control, all he could think was God really must hate him.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you so much to all those who reviewed!! (I wasn't sure anyone would read it!!) Sorry for the mistakes I made. When I work how to fix them I will, but I'm kinda new at this and haven't figured it out yet!! (It's probably easy but I have been known to be a ditzy at times) 

Sam would swear his heart had actually stopped momentarily. Seeing his brother, (who was supposed to be driving) out cold was enough to cause a level of horror he saved for only the worse of situations.

As if by some miracle Sam managed to navigate the Impala to the side of the road with relatively little damage. Maybe Dean wouldn't even notice the dent in the side…_yeah right_. Of course when Dean woke up it would somehow become his fault that any harm had befallen the beloved car. He sometimes wonders if Dean would actually risk his life for this car.

As much as he goaded his brother's love for the perfectly conditioned car, he knew why Dean loved it so much. It represented everything Winchester. All of them together. A time in the past when they had been a real unit, happier. Furthermore, their Mom had loved this car to; Dean _needed_ it to be just that little bit closer to her. Most things had been lost in the fire, but here was the Impala unblemished. No faint scent of burning flesh. Mary Winchester had left her mark.

Sam allowed himself just a moment to calm his breathing and really think what hell he should do. Having gotten past the initial panic, he decided the first thing he should do is try to ascertain what had happened to Dean. Scout out those unseen injuries; find out whether he needed to go to a hospital or to yell at Dean for being such a moron and falling asleep at the wheel.

The first thing he noticed was the blood. Blood that should be coursing through the older mans veins, which was now decorating his t-shirt. It was definitely coming from his head, great, there was that sinking feeling again.

There was no way that there _unusual_ stopping method (slamming into the guard rail) could have caused it. The windows all remained intact thankfully so it was broken glass, he almost wished it was.

Dean needed to wake up right now if only for his brother sanity. Mentally begging Dean to wake up wasn't working so he tried the tried and tested, calm name calling.

"DEAN!" Okay, not so calm but Sam thought that considering the day he'd had it was understandable.

After about five more 'calm' requests Sam realised he was about to embark on one those driving like a maniac type journeys to the nearest hospital. He briefly considered calling an ambulance, but realistically he knew that it would be quicker his way, because when he put his mind to it he was quite the whole driving like a maniac thing.

He manoeuvred Dean very carefully into the passenger's seat and set off at breakneck speed.

The brothers' arrival at the hospital had not been a quiet one, but at least it had got them medical attention pretty quickly.

Sitting in the waiting room, with a white bandage on his forehead for the cut he hadn't even noticed, he was beginning to feel a little stupid. So maybe running in to the ER carrying Dean, screaming;

"Help! Help! Somebody! Oh God… My brother! Someone PLEASE!" may have been a tad over the top, but he was worried.

The new silent, unmoving Dean he had been carrying had not helped. Nor had the very unsupportive nurse that had demand he _leave_ his brother, who could very well have been dying, so that she could take a look at his cut! A CUT! This woman clearly shouldn't be allowed to practice medicine – she mentally deranged! (Okay, again with the dramatics, but really!)

Only after they threaten to have security throw him out did he back off. Not because he thought they could take him, no he would eat them for breakfast. No, he had the sudden irrational fear they might refuse to treat his brother. It seemed perfectly logic in his slightly unhinged state. Ludicrous of course, they would never do that, but just in case he had forced himself to apologise with some amount of sincerity.

If it had of been Dean in his position he would have stayed with Sam. Hell, he'd have thrown the security guards out if he had to. Just so that he could be there for him.

Oh God… Dean.

The only person he would have wanted to get him through a situation like this was Dean and that wasn't exactly practical right now.

It was like a loop in his head. It was like he was a child again, relying on Dean for everything, he need Dean's conformation before he took a step into the unknown. Even in his more independent teenage year his still relied on Dean. Dean had just shouldered it, taken on the weight of looking after Sam. Though Dean would never admit it, he was more of a father than John, _Dad_, had ever been.

Hell, Dean had looked after John more than the other way around. At those moments their father had just crawled into a bottle, broken by the cruelty life had thrown at them all, Dean was always there to take over. To make sure his father ate, drank and slept. His sense of humour had saved John sanity more than once.

Sam was going to feel like a real idiot if Dean was really absolutely fine, just a bump on the head and a healthy dose of exhaustion. Still that would be fine with him; he'd rather fell a little embarrassed, but that was a small price to pay.

He could feel tears prickling in his eyes every time he thought about his brother's pale, lifeless face. Was Dean Okay? What would he do if he wasn't? Where would he go? Back to Stanford? No. If he woke up tomorrow without Dean would he still exist? He had distanced himself from everyone. He couldn't remember the last time he had talked to someone other than Dean or a person connected to the Hunt. The occasional e-mail just didn't cut it.

He suddenly realised, if Dean was gone, there wasn't anyone on the face of the planet that knew him.

Not the real Samuel Winchester, complete with psychic powers and a penchant for spectacular but practical hunting knives. That could take down someone twice his (fairly impressive) size without breaking sweat. That he was proficient with just about any weapon you could throw at him.

They had only met quiet, goofy, college-boy Sam, who didn't talk about his past. Polite to a fault. He formed one half of the perfect partnership with Jes…

No.

He wasn't quite ready to go there. Thinking about her tonight of all night wasn't a good idea. He was barely holding it together as it was.

Sam took a deep breath.

He really had to stop being so pessimistic. He'd spent half his childhood dragging injured family members back to the motel or to a hospital. Why the hell was he so freaked out?

He was being ridiculous. Dean passed out, _big deal_! He'd seen him practically stuffing his innards back in for heavens sake! That nagging sensation in the back of his brain was probably only there 'cos he so tired. This thought was punctuated by a massive, jaw-popping yawn that felt awfully extravagant and was thoroughly enjoyed.

The last thought he had before his body forced him to sleep was, 'What the hell is taking so long?!'

TBC

Okay, I know that was a very Sam's angst focussed chapter, but fear not there will be lots of hurt dean in the next one, which I will try to post tomorrow! I'm thinking about putting in some weeWinchesters flashback type thingys if anyone think it's a good idea.

Hope you enjoyed reading!

Constructive critisism and advice is always apprietiated.

I send imaginary hugs to all the lovely people who review 


	3. Chapter 3

Sam knew how to read people. Effortlessly. He had spent most of his childhood being forced to do it, so it was no surprise really and even though he had literally just woken up he was instantly on high alert. Letting his instincts take over. He was scanning the room for dangers, memorising faces, looking for the exits if he needed to get out quick. Watching body language and gauging moods, all at a glance with no conscious effort. Reading them.

Sometimes he wished he couldn't.

Everything he was reading from the approaching doctor was not looking positive. He wanted to turn it off, just for a second he would like to be a normal person, to be fooled by that fake smile he was being offered.

"Sam Daniels?" The man enquired although Sam was pretty sure the whole hospital knew who the crazy guy who came screaming his brother was dying.

"Yeah. What's happening? Is Dean alright? Where is he? Can I see hi…"

The doctor held up a hand to stop the barrage of questions being fired at him. He was a well built man in his late forties, not yet old but most certainly experienced with concerned relatives. He had decided not to listen to the rumours that young man who he was caring for had an insane brother, at least 8 foot tall ready to hurt anyone who came too close. But Doctor Steven Wright wasn't concerned, he gone toe to toe with a mother protecting her young, real momma bears, now that was scary. He had to admit Sam wasn't exactly what he was expecting

Okay so he was pretty tall, but he looked like a scared kid, fresh out of college, terrified he was going to lose someone he loved, someone_ else _he loved. For he could see that this man had experienced the pain of loss. In his current state it practically radiated off him, in that 'I really need a hug or I might shatter into tiny pieces' type way. He was willing to bet that he had a lot of women doting upon him, but with all the boy's naivety he would probably never even realise.

"I'm Dr Wright. I'm the one currently in charge of your brother's care. Dean is stable at the moment, but we'd like to know a little bit more about what exactly happened? We didn't exactly get much chance to talk before."

"Yeah, sorry about that." Sam said rubbing his head and looking a little sheepish.

"Don't worry about it." Dr Wright chuckled in spite of himself, but sobered quickly because he knew he shouldn't joke before delivering the type of news he was about to give. That wouldn't go down well, especially with someone who allegedly had quite the temper, (though he found it hard to believe.)

"You aren't the first to freak out and I'm sure you won't be the last. But we really need to know what happened because Dean's condition is fairly serious. I don't want you to panic, just be clear, Okay?"

"Yeah…yeah, I can do that." Sam replied taking a breath to calm himself, but he still looked a little unsure. For unbeknownst to the doctor, Sam had picked up on his subtle downward glance and ever so slight wince, and recognised it for the bad sign it was.

"Alright, why don't you tell me what happened." Steven prompted after Sam just sat their as if he'd forgotten how conversations worked.

"Well, we were looking at an old house, y'know…to buy, when the floor collapsed and Dean fell to the floor below, landing on his side. I'm pretty sure he was knocked out, but I don't know how long for."

Sam hoped the effect of this would match Dean's injuries closely enough. It's not like there was a normal explanation for being throw into a wall with the amount of force Dean had. So a fall was going to have to do. In different circumstances…_if Dean had been there_…Sam would have concocted a better story. Exhaustion apparently wasn't helping. Dr Wright however seemed satisfied with his explanation.

"Okay, that explains his newer injuries, what about the older ones, I would guess maybe a week ago?"

"I…what? What injuries? I…I don't…"

Had Dean injured himself? Where had they been a week ago? What? But that was when they had been dealing with that Rawhead. (A creature which had gone way up on list of most dreaded since Dean nearly electrocuted himself to death last time they bumped into one!)

Dean never said anything about being hurt. He searched desperately through his memories, replaying their conversations.

Nothing.

Mind you, come to think of it he hadn't actually seen Dean finishing off the creature as he was carrying an unconscious victim outside. By the time he turned to go help his brother, the job was already done. Next time Dean was on civilian evacuation drill! Why did he always seem to end-up with the casualties, heading away from danger (or at least attempting to). Like with the Wendigo and the original Rawhead.

Dean was just way too good at hiding injuries. It was supposed to be from teachers and social workers he was hiding them, but Dean felt the need to _protect_ his Sammy by keeping quiet. It was slightly misguided form of protection considering the results, dying was not going to help Sam at all. God he was going to be so pissed at Dean - as soon as he recovered. Which he bloody well better had! That pig-headed fool!

"Are you sure you don't know of any injuries? We think he cracked a few ribs; he would have been in a lot of pain. His wrist was also fractured, though it may not have actually fractured until his fall or the car crash you mentioned when you arrived. Still it would definitely have been swollen. That and some of his other bruises were too developed to have happened just hours before his arrival. He must have given some indication. Were you actually _with_ him the past week?"

"Yes!" Sam replied feeling vaguely offended. He realised the man probably hadn't meant it the way it sounded, but it still stung. God Dean was probably in silent agony, while he bitched about being _tired_.

"Oh, I suppose some people do have high pain threshold, maybe that's all. Well, the fall caused more damage to his ribs, most likely worsen due to the pre-existing injury." Dr Wright's voice became graver. "But that isn't our main concern right now. You brother fractured his skull. He is having an MRI right now to check for bleeding in his brain. We're particularly concerned because he hasn't regain consciousness. I need you to prepare fro the possibility there could be permanent damage. But Dean is young, even if there is damage _could _still recover."

Skull fracture, bleeding on the brain, this was bad.

VERY BAD. Like might die bad. The doctors feeble assurances that he had offered with a doubt filled tone just weren't gonna cut it. He wasn't sure how long it had been since he first arrived, but Dean should have woken up by now.

Sam was suddenly infinitely grateful for the uncomfortable waiting room chair because without it he would be making a very quick, painful journey to the floor. He _knew_ how bad this was. Brain injuries could mean brain damage - _permanent_ damage. Or blood clots, they could lead to strokes, he wasn't sure Dean would WANT to carry on with only partially use of his body. That would kill Dean even if the initial injury didn't. Or major swelling, swelling they might not be able to control, and that meant death.

The colour had left Sam's face; the pale, sterile hospital room seemed to be distorting around him. The walls were closing in on Sam. A wave of nausea hit. God he couldn't breathe, he had to get out there right now.

He bolted from the room, surprising the doctor with his speed. He just kept running, darting round corners, subconsciously heading straight nearest exit, to air, to space, anywhere but the place that represented everything bad to a Winchester.

Taking deep, gasping breaths. Gulping down air like he had been drowning. The tears which up 'til now he had refused to entertain were streaming down his face. It was like his fatigue was multiplying his problems. God, he hoped his was over-reacting. The more tired he got, the worse everything seemed. He fell back against the wall and folded himself to the floor; knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. His _irrational_ fears didn't seem so irrational now. This was all wrong.

TBC

Okay, so dean didn't appear in person, again! Sorry! He will definitely be in the next chapter though - honest :-)

Thanks for all the lovely reviews

I will be putting wee!Winchesters in at some point for sure.

I'm not really happy with this chapter – sorry :-(

Not really sure why. But if didn't stop tweaking I'd never upload it!

Hope you enjoy anyway!


	4. Chapter 4

Dean had not regained consciousness. He had been officially declared comatose.

Sam had gone back into the hospital about half an hour after rather abrupt exit. From the pitying look the woman at reception gave him when he quietly requested his brother's room number, it was fairly obvious he had been crying. Not that Sam cared; he just wanted to see Dean.

Dean was in the ICU. Though visiting hours were restricted Sam got in straight away, finally something close to actual good luck.

Funny how different people looked in a hospital bed, washed out by the harsh lights and grey surroundings. Smaller, a little less human.

Everything that represented Dean was somehow gone, leaving this vacant shell. Living only because a machine way keeping him this way. Tubes doing for him what he should be doing for himself. Dean was relying completely and it was so wrong. The independent man that he had been since the age of four, since he was handed the responsibility of getting Sam out alive, was gone. Left in this sort of _unnatural stasis_. It was like watching a river flowing backwards, or the rain falling up.

His now exposed chest, bruised and battered, seemed almost undignified. Like the whole world was seeing something distinctly private. Seeing the damage, the kind that Sam knew from experience hurt like hell. Every breath sending a wave of fire throughout you body. Broken ribs made everything hard, crouching down, running, digging graves, all of which Dean subjected himself to so that no-one else had to.

For some reason though, Sam found himself staring at the cast that was on his brother's arm. Letting all his attention focus there instead of the litany of bruises and stitches and bandages and tubes and wires, _invading_ Dean's body. Focussing rather, on something _safe_, something they _knew_.

Dean had broken his arm, and he hadn't told him. What the hell had he been thinking? Adrenalin may mask pain, but effect was TEMPORARY. Dean must have known it was broken, they both knew what it felt like; it was a required skill with their lifestyles. It was important to know whether or not they were gonna have to swing by a hospital and get it fixed by a professional.

Stitches, general clean-ups and even very minor surgeries(_very_ minor surgeries) they could deal with. But broken arms, legs, backs or _skulls_ were just way beyond them; Dean _knew_ he'd need a cast. What was he expecting, it to magically fix itself?

Sam wondered how long it had been broken. Maybe it'd just been a green-stick fracture originally? Maybe Dean knew it hadn't been bad and that it only needed to be wrapped, that it was just bad luck it had blossomed into something much worse? Who was he kidding…Dean wasn't getting the benefit of the doubt this time Sam decided.

"You are a stupid, stupid _jerk_, Dean." He muttered angrily as if he expected Dean to hop and defend his honour. But that wasn't gonna happen. Nope. This was new Dean, coma Dean, Dean who couldn't open his eyes, much less come out with one of his witty comebacks or putdowns. Where had the, "_Oh sorry, BITCH, I just didn't want to give you anther reason to whip out your '_Emo Sam'_ face"_

Sam found himself almost chuckling at the thought of the conversation they _should_ be having. God, how had it gotten like this. He could still remember the first time he'd seen Dean break his arm. It seemed like a lifetime ago now.

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Summer 1990

Dean was 12 and considered himself plenty grown-up enough to do just about anything at this point. Run the country - not a problem. Dodge a speeding bullet – cakewalk.

And y'know what? This cocky attitude was driving John insane, not to mention Sam. Dean had been going on hunts for years now and not just the simple ones. This did not however make him invincible. It seemed that the boy had chosen to ignore the fact that he had been injured a _lot_ and focussed on the fact that he was still alive.

Whilst everyone was in agreement that the fact he was alive was most assuredly a positive sign, that did not mean he was Superman. Being reckless was NOT an option and John hoped like hell his eldest would be developing some common sense in the near future. Dean doing things like tackling Zombies to the ground _unarmed_ – not a great sign.

Currently however they were hunting a werewolf, one John had been tracking for a while now. It was a real piece of work, nasty. By all accounts he had been a pretty sadistic bastard even before he had been turned. John had taken down the werewolf that had been responsible for this a few years earlier and he would taken down this one, had it not been for the cops showing up at the most inopportune of moments.

At 8 Sam's only real involvement with this level of hunt was limited to research, not that the kid complained to his credit. Hell if John hadn't known better he would have thought he even _enjoyed_ it.

Dean had been more involved than Sam was by this age, but that was probably because he was the baby of the bunch. Also anytime Sam was with Dean, which was most of the time, Dean went into full on big brother mode. If Sam came on a serious hunt before _Dean_ felt he was ready, there was going to be a problem.

So when it came to the big day, Dean had been very specific about Sam staying in the car NO MATTER WHAT!

Apparently the command to keep safe and take NO risks did not apply to Dean himself.

They had parked up at the edge of a dark forest, the one they knew the creature would be in. It was a very popular camping area, remote enough that it only really drew out the experienced. It also had a high enough bear population for the local LEO's to blame it on them.

"Now remember what I said Sammy…"

"I know, I know, stay in the car and keep the doors locked. I got that like the first _hundred_ times, I'm not a baby y'know!"

"If you say so _titch_." Dean snorted.

"Hey! I'm not that short!"

"No, you're even shorter; you wouldn't even have to bend down to walk under a table!" Dean laughed.

"I would to! DAAAAD!" Sam whined, "Tell Dean I would!"

"Dean. Stop winding your brother up." John said in an annoyed tone. "I'm going now but feel free to stay behind with him if you want to."

Dean heard this for the threat it was and shut up, sparing his brother a glare before grabbing his stuffing and getting out the car.

"Hey Dean! Wait up!" Sam called after him. "What was it you wanted me to do?"

"STAY IN TH…" Dean started to yell before he realised his brother was laughing. "Not funny Sammy, _not_ funny!"

Sam just carried on giggling as Dean walked away.

John and Dean had a plan, a strategy to kill this thing. They knew what they were doing and even at this early stage in their 'careers' they had created an impressive father-son partnership. Worked like a well oiled machine usually.

But not this time apparently.

The werewolf had caught on to the Winchesters sooner than expected. It had already left a nasty wound on John's chest and there was blood coming from his head. So Dean had found himself dragging his father back to the car. The impala had just come into sight and he had been thinking it was a good thing John had taught him how to drive already, when the werewolf appeared in front of him.

All that had been thinking as he unceremoniously dropped his father to the ground and pulled out the gun loaded with silver bullets was, 'this is NOT good'

But he wasn't quick enough as the creature was suddenly upon him. Being the sadistic bastard it was it decided to stamp on his arm to make him drop the gun, the arm which had been over a small branch. Dean watched as his arm developed an interesting new bend in his forearm, a sight accompanied by a sickening crunch. Because of the branch lifting it off the ground, it had bent back, ending up at a forty-five degree angle, with _bone_ piercing the skin.

Sam who had been watching in horror from the car had expected Dean to scream, or cry, or both. Dean's actual reaction however had not been anything like what Sam expected.

For second he had just stared blankly at his arm. The werewolf had misread this as defeat, leaning back to leer disgustingly at his 'victim', a scrawny pathetic kid, not a threat to him, a powerful, skilled beast.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

Dean let out an animalistic howl, before ferociously attacking the werewolf, catching it off guard. The assault was unforgiving and culminated in Dean viciously stabbing the creature in the heart with a silver dagger he had brought as back-up. Not satisfied, Dean had then stood-up, found the discarded gun and unloaded the entire clip into its chest. He then let off a string of curses that might have shocked even John.

Sam had been staring wide-eyed in the car. He sat there wondering who the hell this psycho was and what the hell he had done with _his_ Dean. He couldn't remember ever seeing Dean as furious as he had that night. He was normally deadly efficient, but this was plain brutal. Sammy had not expected this from his 12 year old brother, the one who made stupid jokes and mad fun of him.

A few days later Sam called him on, asked why he had been so mad. Dean had simply replied, "Son of a bitch broke my arm. It shouldn't a'done that."

Dean had had to have his arm pinned. He had also been a totally pain in the arse until he had been allowed to hunt again.

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At the time, Sam had assumed it was just because he was being a brat because he got left behind, that he was feeling jealous. But looking back on it Sam realised it more likely Dean hadn't want his father hunting alone, he wanted to be there to make sure he didn't lose him.

As he sat by Dean's bed Sam couldn't help but wonder where Dean's fight had gone.

TBC

A/N: I would have added a place for the flash back but knowledge of the different state in America isn't that great. Sure I can list a bunch, but what the areas like, the weather, mountains, lakes or desert? -- Not so much! So I left it up to your imaginations. Sorry!

LEO's stands for law enforcement officers, I'm sure most people know that - but just in case someone's like what the hell :-)

Thanks again for each and every review. Big hugs to all of you!

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!

BTW I upped the rating just in case 'cos I wasn't sure it was right. Better safe than sorry!


	5. Chapter 5

Sam was sleeping with his head rested on Dean's bed when he had felt himself being pulled back. His first instinct was 'someone is attacking you, take them down, take them down!'

He was in the motion of grabbing the persons neck when he realised it was just a nurse, Sam ripped his arm back looking just as startled as the nurse did.

"Sorry!" they both blurted

"I didn't mean to startle you… I just…"

"No, God no it's fine I… I…it wa…" Sam suddenly stopped mid stutter when he realised that he could hear the sound of screaming machines, high pitched beeping that he couldn't understand.

Holy crap, they were coming from Dean's bed. He frantically looked around to see if he was mistaken and it was someone else in distress. But his one last bit of hope was gone when he realised he was grasping at straws now.

There was a flurry of activity around his brother, fairly difficult to miss that.

He wasn't really sure what they were doing; partly because he didn't want to know in case it was something he wasn't gonna wanna hear. His brain was suddenly unable to function and he found himself being ushered out of the room. The fog surrounding his brain stopped him from protesting.

When a doctor finally came out to talk to Sam, the intensivist was slightly unnerved at how still the young man was. Still, too still, like someone had pressed the pause button. He found himself glancing around to make sure that other people around him were still moving, when saw they still were he instantly felt like a fool.

"Mr Daniels? Would you like to sit down?"

Sam just looked at him with wide eyes and a look that told the doctor he wasn't comprehending much of anything right now. The state did however seem to make him fairly compliant. Sitting the young man down the doctor started trying to explain Dean's condition as simply as he could. People weren't really his thing but this man needed news right now; he was too fragile to be left waiting.

Sam just sat there, not really knowing what to do. He found himself thinking he hadn't met this doctor before. He hadn't even introduced himself, Sam already preferred Dr Wright. The new doctor looked about 12, with blond hair, blue eyes and a real baby face. He looked like he should still be in high school for heavens sake. Sam wouldn't have thought he would be old enough to drive, let alone practice medicine.

"Are you ready for this?" He asked before beginning, just to ensure he wasn't gonna have to explain this twice, he was a busy man.

Sam nodded, words were a little beyond him right now.

"Uh, okay, well we had a look at Dean's MRI. It showed that the pa…uh, D…Dean has swelling around his brain." The young intensive care specialist cursed himself for sounding like a stuttering buffoon. That wasn't gonna give the man much confidence in him now was it.

Again Sam just nodded with that disturbed look on his face.

"The swelling put pressure on his brain stem, the part that controls the basic functions essential to maintaining life. This caused Dean to stop breathing and go into cardiac arrest." He continued sounding more confident in what he was saying. "He needs to go into surgery right away if he is to have a chance of survival. We had originally hoped it might correct itself, but as it has worsened and we had to put him on a ventilator, we doubt he can recover without the operation. What we need from you is a signature of consent. Now as with any surgery there is a risk, the anaesthetic alone is a danger, but with the severity of Dean's condition he is at a much higher risk. But we have one of the most competent brain surgeon's in the state, so we will be doing everything possible to save your brother."

There was an awkward silence, so the doctor handed over the clipboard and pointed out where Sam needed to sign. Sam did so wordlessly.

"Thank you. I'll let you know how the surgery went as soon as your brothers out of the theatre."

Still Sam only nodded. The doctor had no idea what to do or say, so he just put a hand on the man shoulder squeezing it as reassuringly as possible, before walking away feeling a little guilty.

He felt numb.

With his worst case scenario laid out in front of him, he suddenly found himself lost. That panicked feeling had gone and been replaced by nothingness; like he had no emotions left. Too much had happened in his life, too much tragedy, just _too much_.

He was exhausted. He couldn't cope with this and it was liked someone had just pressed the off switch on him. So he just sat and stared at the blank wall in front of him.

TBC

A/N: Sorry, I realise that this is a short chapter is kinda short but it seemed an appropriate place to finish.

Promise to update very soon, maybe even later tonight!

As always thank you for all the lovely the reviews, they inspire me to keep writing :-)


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Update as promised! (I am so addicted to writing this story!)

Hours later, Sam was in the exact same place he had been when he'd been told Dean was going into surgery. The world around him seemed to be spinning uncontrollably, but there Sam remained, frozen, waiting. Waiting until someone told him Dean would be alright so that he could breathe again. The weight of fear and loss was weighing on him so heavily that Sam was scared he would be crushed under the strain of it all.

What if Dean had given up? What if he woke up and he wasn't Dean anymore? Maybe a lesser version of Dean, one left without full function was scarier than no Dean at all. No. No way. Sam decided no matter what he was like when he came back from surgery, Sam would take care of him. Even if he couldn't walk or talk or remember who his own brother was, Sam wasn't giving up. NO MATTER WHAT. 'Cos y'know what, Dean deserved it. After everything he had done, everything he had sacrificed for everyone other than himself that meant something. _Too much_ to be forgotten.

Sam found himself thinking about their childhood. The things Dean had done for him, asking nothing in return. After all the crap he had pulled, all the selfish things Sam had done, Dean had never stopped being there for him.

When Sam was pissed off, or sad or just plain bored, Dean had come along and fixed it. That's what Dean did. He fixed things. Not just Sam either. He fixed their dad too.

They had asked Dean for more than any one person should have to give, and yet Dean had done it. He had done it with grace. He hadn't EVER given up on Sam. Sam wasn't about to let down the most important person in his world.

So Sam sat and thought about Dean, recapturing memories of his greatness, in case he had lost it forever, in case he needed these memories to keep that Dean alive, so that he would NEVER be forgotten.

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Spring 1994

The Winchesters had moved again. Sam was furious. He had loved Greenoak and Dad had promised, promised that they would stay for at least until the end of the school term. He had been so damn happy, when Dad had told him that, so damn happy.

But of course that promise had been broken. They had stayed there for a month, one measly, pathetic month. It had actually _hurt_ to have to leave. If he hadn't been broken out of it already he would have started crying, 'cos Winchesters didn't cry. Nope. Not unless someone was sufficiently close to death for them to get _choked-up_. It was so stupid. What did they think, they'd turn into girls? That they'd forget how to fight? What the hell did it matter? But apparently Sam thoughts on the matter weren't important and Sam couldn't be bothered to fight about it. They spent enough of their lives fighting as I was.

Sam wondered how things could possibly get any worse. Then they had arrived at their new abode. It had to be the most rundown trailer park in the history of America. Worst still everyone his new school had apparently managed to find out. Nobody was ever gonna talk to trailer trash like them. Sam had made some good friends at his last school, the kind of people that had he been given half a chance, Sam would have kept in touch with for many years to come.

Unfortunately life just didn't seem to work that way. Their Dad had ended up almost getting arrested for a multitude of 'sins'. Getting seen beating the living crap outta people who subsequently seemed to disappear from the face of the earth really was too much.

So with the job done, the Winchesters fled.

Sam had considered asking his Dad to just leave him the hell behind. However all that would achieve was an impressive screaming match and a whole lotta pissed off Winchesters.

So he held his tongue. In fact he'd not said a work to John past a 'yes Sir', 'no Sir' or 'piss the hell off Sir'. The last had earned him a stony glare and a whole lot of extra training to do.

That was how Sam had ended up in the middle of nowhere, carrying all his worldly possessions trying to hitch hike as far away as possible from 'The Asshole Formerly Known as Dad'

For three days same had lasted, not that he had given up; no, Papa Winchester wasn't a renowned hunter for nothing. Sam suspected he'd actually allowed his son a day head start just to teach him a lesson about what it was like to be alone.

It had actually worked, Sam hadn't runaway again, not until he left for Stanford years later. But it was not because of his father. It was because of Dean.

When John had marched into the hotel 12 year old Sam had managed to con his way into, Sam discovered that things in the Winchester clan were galaxies away from Okay.

In different circumstances John might actually have been by his youngest's feats of ingenuity. Getting free board in what seemed to be a pretty decent hotel was quite an accomplishment. But after what happened he was too furious to give rats arse what Sam had done.

No, when father and son had met up all hell broke loose.

"Samuel Winchester! Get your ass in the car RIGHT NOW!"

"NO! You stay the hell away from me you BASTARD! I'M NOT COMING WITH YOU!"

Instead of a reply, John had simple grabbed Sam's arm in a vice like grip and propelled him towards the door.

The staff at the hotel had been horrified at the sight of this great big man dragging poor little Sammy toward the door. They may only have known him a few days, but the kid had been so sweet they couldn't bear to see some _ogre_ assault him. Sam wasn't very tall for a 12 year old and didn't look like had a hope against this guy that seemed to be trying to abduct him. Maybe this was the man he was running from.

He had demanded that he work for his keep, even though his big doe eyes and adorable personality would have gotten him in for nothing. Smart, hard working, he should have had a lot going for him, but behind it all, the boy had seemed so sad and no-one could figure out why.

Maybe they had their answer now. The young woman named Cleo who worked on the reception desk decided that she couldn't stand it any longer.

"Hey! Stop it! I've called security so you better get out before they come _make_ you get out."

The man laughed, he laughed. Not a 'ha-ha that's funny' type laugh, but an intimidating 'I'm one bad son-of-a-bitch' type laugh.

"I am not going anywhere without my son." He turned to Sam, "Whether he likes it or not, so you can just _back_ the hell off."

The man hadn't said it loudly, but he had said it with so much authority and power, she had heard the implication that he was gonna do whatever it took to get his son back. She had never felt so sorry for anyone in her life, poor Sammy.

"Don't talk to her like that!"

"Sam. Shut _up_ and GO. TO. THE. CAR!"

"WHY! It's just gonna be exactly like before and I won't live like that! All I do is disappoint you 'cos I'm never gonna be good enough for you! Nothing I do is ever good enough! And you can't even keep one stupid promise to me! There's nothing for me with you! Just leave me alone!"

"What, nothing at all?" Came a voice from the door.

"Dean!" Sam cried feeling guilty and relieved all at the same time.

"Go back to the car Dean, you should be lying down." John ordered gently. When Sam took in Dean whole appearance, he actually had to agree with his father. His brother looked like he should be in a hospital; something had obviously done one hell of a job on him. His face was marred by nasty looking bruising and Sam could see a line of stitches that disappeared into his hairline. From the way Dean was limping slightly and clutching his stomach Sam knew the visible bruising was only the tip of the iceberg.

"No." Dean said, disobeying a direct command was way outta range for him, he just didn't do it.

"Jesus Dean, what happened?!" Sam exclaimed.

"Oh no, oh no you don't! You don't _get_ to act all concerned now. If you hadn't run off Dean wouldn't have been distracted, he would've been concentrating on the job and wouldn't have got hurt!"

"Dad, don't, please. Sammy, don't you listen to him. It was my fault. All of it. I should never have let you go." Dean voice was starting to crack. "And I want you to know that I am so, so sorry."

Dean was crying, actually crying, and more than that he was crying in front of their father. The man who he never allowed to see him weak. He had sacrificed this so that Sam could see how important he was.

Breaking down Sam rushed over to his brother, enveloping him in a hug that they both needed so badly. Sam had been scared he would hurt Dean, but his older brother was holding onto him for dear life.

"Don't leave me Sammy. _Please,_ don't ever leave me."

And Sam had been sobbing too hard to say anything.

Sam never found out what happened to Dean on that hunt, the he shouldn't have taken the fall on. Sam didn't ask and Dean didn't tell. After they left the Hotel that day, (having said a proper goodbye to all the staff, reassuring them his father wasn't a homicidal maniac,) they had never spoken of those three days again. But Sam had never felt so guilty in his life, nor so unworthy of his brothers forgiveness.

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Sam had tears rolling down his face remembering the events of that day. He wasn't sure when he had started crying but he didn't care. It was better than the nothingness he had felt before. He wasn't sobbing, only letting silent tears slip down his face but that was enough, enough to know he was alive.

He was still crying when another doctor approached him. This time a woman who he would assume was a surgeon, Dean's surgeon. He shot up from his chair so fast, that had it not been bolted to the floor, it probably would have imbedded itself in the wall behind Sam.

"Is he okay?! My brother, is he gonna be alright?!"

His heart was racing, his hands were shaking and there was enough adrenalin pumping round him to power the entire hospital. He half expected light bulbs to start exploding around him.

He saw the surgeon smile and that was enough.

Dean had done it, made it to the end, taken on the odds and whooped their asses. Stared into the abyss and it had blinked first. He was unstoppable, ON TOP OF THE WORLD!

Sam was bent double, bracing his hands on his knees and _laughing_, laughing in relief, in _elation_.

The doctor was still talking to him, probably telling him Dean wasn't out of the woods yet, but it didn't matter. Dean the Invincible was gonna make it; he couldn't believe he'd ever doubted it. He was through the worst. He might not be waking up in the next few days but Sam didn't care; he _was_ gonna wake up eventually and that was more than enough for him.

He was on a high and nothing was bringing him down!

TBC

A/N: Embrace the chick flick moments my friends :-)

Hope you enjoyed!


	7. Chapter 7

Nine days Sam had to wait.

It seemed like the longest nine days of his life.

According to the doctors nine days was not a long time, it could be weeks, or months until Dean woke up.

Nine days not a long time? What!

WHERE THEY OFF THEIR HEADS?!

Clearly they had never sat in one room for just over 96 hours waiting to see if the person in the bed was the same one they had entered the hospital with.

He was probably doing that whole over dramatic thing again. Dean would have told him to go find someone else to bother if he had been awake. Hovering was Dean's job, (not that he'd ever admit it,) he pretty much had it down to an art and Sam was strictly forbidden participating!

Dean said Big brothers did the worrying, little ones lived care free.

And everyone knew big brothers were always right.

Another difference was that normally when Sam started with the whole 'geek-boy' talk, he was silenced fairly quickly. But now, with no-one to stop him and after a suggestion from the doctors to talk to him, Sam found himself filling Dean in on the finer points of law.

After all he had spent _four_ _years_ at Stanford learning this stuff and someone was sure hell gonna listen.

But it was more than that. After about 36 hours, he just couldn't think of anything else to say. It was not that the brother had ever run out of things to say to each other before. It's just this was a monologue, not a conversation. Turns out it's not as easy as you'd think talking to someone who wasn't gonna talk back.

He was prepared to talk Dean through the entire pre-law course if he had too.

If Dean could actually hear him he would come out of it with quite the education. If he found Dean citing case law on a hunt some time in the future, Sam was gonna laugh his ass off.

Dean had been extubated on the second day after his operation, then moved into a private room with a small connecting bathroom; which was lucky since he had no plans to leave the room until Dean woke up, so he'd have one hell of a distended bladder without it.

The only reason he'd eaten was because the nursing staff had decided he wasn't really a violent maniac and decided that if he was gonna stay he was gonna have eat. (The puppy dog eyes thing had probably helped.)

Every time a doctor entered the room they found themselves being set upon by a young man armed with questions, and he wasn't afraid to use them!

The staff had been trying to get in and out as quick as possible at first, but by the forth day thing had changed. Sam Daniels was pretty interesting guy, and the irritating medical questions morphed into discussions and debates and laughing.

They had moved from questions about Deans medical care, new treatments, demands to know what_ exactly_ they were doing, to the broader issues of the hospital, and finally to cracking jokes and making fun of each other.

But Sam never, not once took his attention far for his ailing elder sibling. He kept glancing at Dean as if he was going to say something in the conversation that the doctors got the distinct impression was mainly for his benefit. Hoping it might stir him, the one who lay as close to absolutely still as a person could be without being dead.

By the fourth day, one of the nurses had demanded that Sam take a shower, just 'cos he was worried about his brother didn't mean it was okay to give up on all personal hygiene.

Sam took off full pelt toward the shower, yelling to his brother mid-flight that he'd be right back.

About ten minutes later he had arrived back, still pretty wet leaving the everyone wondering if he'd actually bother with a using a towel at all.

His franticness was very endearing.

The staff started trying to help him out with everything and anything they could. Something Sam never took advantage of, bless his soul. That only made them keener to help.

And right now what the boy needed was a set of scrubs to replace his rank, and now soggy clothes.

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And then on the ninth day, it happened.

Dean woke up.

Sam had been half dozing with a magazine in his lap, when he saw movement from the corner of his eye.

Instantly he was on his feet and next to Dean who seemed distressed and disoriented.

Sam pressed the call button and started shouting for help.

A flurry of activity took over the once serene room.

Sam was being pulled toward the door, but this time around he did protest, and not quietly either.

"No! NO! Let go of me I need to see my brother! Please!"

The nurse however, in a very calm voice, way too calm for Sam's liking, told him that he need to let the doctors examine his and check that he was okay.

He struggled all the way out into the corridor.

Then he stopped. Standing _absolutely_ still, before turning round, almost in slow-motion, a look of shock on his face.

The young nurse who had forced him out there suddenly felt herself getting nervous under his gaze.

"He woke up." Sam said quietly, it came out more like a question rather than a statement though. As if he had only just realised it had happened.

"He woke up." He repeated this time with a smile spreading over his face.

"HE WOKE UP!" This time Sam broke into laughter, his euphoria obvious.

Still laughing he unexpectedly grabbed the woman into a hug.

Surprised as she felt herself lifted off the ground, she just joined in the laughing and let herself be spun around.

Putting her back down again, he just shoved a hand over his wide smile, trying to control his joy, and said, "He woke up!" Then burst into hysterical laughter again.

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Half an hour or so later, the doctors came back out of Dean's room causing Sam to spring up from his seat like a hyperactive 10 year old.

A woman, who looked to be in her late 40's perhaps, stepped forward and introduced herself as Dr Helen Constable.

"Can see my brother?" Sam blurted; unable to control himself.

"In a moment, I just need to talk to you about your brother's condition first."

"Condition?" Sam asked. That sounded ominous, Sam felt himself becoming apprehensive.

"Yes. Now, understand that it's very early days, so it's not necessarily permanent."

Okay, if that was meant to be reassuring, it had gone down like a lead balloon.

"After performing some basic neurological checks, it seems your brother may have damaged his**Cerebrum. That is the part responsible for memory amongst other things. His short term memory seems fine, but, he can't seem to remember who he is."**

**Dean didn't know who he was.**

**Sam felt himself going, the world spinning around him, until it all went black.**

**TBC**

**A/N: Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed this chapter ****:-) **

I have already started the next one, so hopefully it'll be ready tomorrow.

I was tempted to make this chapter longer, except it's nearly one in the morning where I am so I really ought to go to bed (after I do my homework which I forgot of course! Oops!)

Love Gracie xx


	8. Chapter 8

Well that had been embarrassing. Sam had opened his eyes to find himself surrounded by a whole gaggle of doctors staring down at him.

He passed out.

_Fainted_.

Dean would not be finding out about this or he'd never hear the end of it. Dean would find it hil…

Wait. Dean wouldn't know who he was.

It was so easy to forget.

Sam tried to get up without making more of a fool of himself. Trying to tell everyone, who were looking at him with concern written all over their faces, that he was absolutely fine. That no he didn't want to sit down, he wanted to go to see his brother.

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He had been waiting for this for nine days, but now Dean was awake, that room seemed a hell of a lot more daunting. He had stood outside the door trying to steady his racing heart for a good 5 minutes.

Come on Sam. Suck it up. Dean needs you.

Sam pushed himself through the door.

"Hey."

Well that was a good start. Sam opened his mouth to say something, but found that his brain wasn't working any more and just ended up looking like he was doing some kind of weird fish impersonation.

Say something for crying out loud man.

"I… I'm Sam. Huh, you, er, probably don't remember me."

Dean was looking at him with an expressionless face.

"Oh. Are you one of my doctors?"

That hurt. Looking down at his scrubs he realised why Dean must have thought that, but still, that hurt.

Sam felt his throat constrict and his breathing speed up. Heart pounding he tried to keep calm.

"No, uh, I'm Sam, your brother, little brother, Sammy…your name's Dean…I dunno, maybe they told you that already…" He lets his mumbling trail off.

Dean had a weird look on his face. He wasn't looking at Sam, he had his mouth clamped shut and he looked slightly red, almost as if…

Dean let out a rip-roaring laugh.

What?

Bringing his hand to his head and wincing slightly in pain, but still laughing Dean, _his Dean_ started explaining.

"Dude, should have seen your face! I only said I didn't know my own name 'cos I wasn't sure which you'd given me, and who the hell _knows_ what kind of ridiculous story you came up with as a cover!"

Sam was pissed, but relieved enough to laugh.

"_You_, are a stupid, pig-headed, ass-face!" Sam throws out but there is no maliciousness in his words. Feeling ridiculously thankful that this particular stupid, pig-headed, ass-face was still very much new who he was.

To be fair to Dean he had woken up from a coma, he was entitled to a little fun. Anyway, what was he supposed to do, ask the doctor which fake details Sam had given? Considering the bill they must be running up that wouldn't have gone down well. It wasn't like Dean was about to make a quick getaway anytime soon. He should be glad that Dean had had the presence of mind _not _to give his name.

"Are you done torturing me yet?" He asked with a snort when he saw a mischievous look on Dean's face.

"Ahh, just about, sorry I just couldn't resist. Seriously, you shoulda seen yourself. _That_ is the picture I want on _all_ my Christmas cards from now on."

"Since when do we ever do Christmas cards?" Sam grumbled in a mock irritated voice (only 'cos he couldn't think of anything better to say)

"Wow, nice comeback Sammy, they teach you that at Stanford?"

"Shut-up."

"And when exactly were you gonna tell me you broke you're arm? Don't tell me you didn't know…" Sam demanded as if it was actually important.

"I didn't…well…I mean I wasn't even sure it was broken, it didn't hurt that much 'til the wall incident, and then everything hurt. My _arm_? I mean what; do I _look_ like I keep an x-ray machine in my back pocket?"

Sam rolled his eyes, but said nothing else. His brother wasn't gonna give in and now wasn't the time to argue.

Sam huffed.

"Ooookay." He let out a gargantuan yawn and then winced again. "Man I'm tired. What the hell happened to me?"

"You don't remember, I mean _really_ don't remember?"

"No, I'm asking 'cos I want a bedtime story. What do you think?" Dean seemed to be getting a little ill-tempered as he got more tired.

There was a pause as Sam tried to gauge whether he was being wound up or not. He didn't want to fall for the same joke twice.

"I don't like having the memory of being thrown at a wall and having no idea why, alright Sam, so would you tell me some time this century?"

"Sorry," Sam looked down feeling guilty, but still grateful at Dean's openness, even if he was a little grumpy.

"Uh, well were just driving back from that hunt with the spirit of that girl who got murdered by her uncle. She probably went for you 'cos you were around his ag…"

Looking at Dean he realised that Dean had already gone back to sleep and he had done enough talking to himself for a life time. Dean could wait 'til tomorrow to find out what happened.

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"Sam." Came a quiet voice, it sounded almost solemn.

Sitting bolt upright like someone had set him on fire, Sam looked around wildly for the serious tone.

Sam let out a breath when he realised it was Dean. He had been coming in and out of consciousness sporadically. His unfathomable pattern of though had led to some really weird conversations.

The doctors said it wasn't anything to worry about after the type of surgery he'd been through. Sam suspected that Dean wasn't going to remember a lot of these conversations. This time however he seemed pretty lucid, but that didn't always mean a lot with Dean, (even before the whole brain surgery thing!)

"Sammy?"

"Yes?"

"Where exactly is the car?"

Sam's eyes suddenly went wide and he felt his mouth fall open. He had abandoned the car at the entrance of the hospital when they'd arrived; he hadn't even thought to do anything with it.

Dean closed his eyes and flopped his head on the pillow before resignedly said, "You let it get towed didn't you."

"I…I…I'm getting it right now!" He explained taking off at a run.

Sam had a sneaking suspicion that Dean was going to remember this for a _long_ time.

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"So," Dean said sleepily, "What's the hot nurse count then?"

"What?" Sam asked looking incredulous.

"Dude, tell me you didn't forget to do a hot nurse count? What the hell have you been doing, you said I'd been here over a week! Man, that is poor form for you Sammy; I thought I cover this when we were kids?

"Ah yes, the good old days. You were a little pervert even back then."

Dean seemed to have been drifting off again but mumbled something that sounded a lot like, 'Nurse lily...oh yeah…the good old days'

"Do your own count you weirdo" Sam muttered under his breath

Sam tried to erase this from his mind as he too could remember Nurse Lily; the thought of them together was not one he needed, _ever_. Eeeeew!

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Two weeks later Dean was pretty much back to his normal _very annoying_ self. Mind you since Sam had enough dirt on his brother to last him quite a while he didn't mind too much. His brain injury induced ramblings had in some cases been quite enlightening.

Who knew Dean secretly liked reading the Hardy Boys. Sam hadn't known Dean had even read entire book in his life, so he'd been surprised at that revelation. It may have been about 10 years ago but Dean would still be mortified that Sam new. This was gonna be fun.

Right now however, he was starting to appreciate 'coma Dean'. That distant memory of quiet, aah.

"When are they gonna let me outta here Sam?!" Dean whined dramatically for about the hundredth time.

"Geez Dean, I don't know, what do you think I'm psychic or s….I mean…oh you know what I mean!"

Dean just lay back and laughed at Sam. Sam groaned wishing he'd never said anything.

"Hey!" Dean said brightly, "You _should_ go do the whole psychic-boy thing on the doctor, quick go find out when I can go!" Dean attempted to shove Sam to the door from his bed.

"Stop it!" Sam hissed.

"Ooooh, touchy aren't we."

Sam REALLY needed to get Dean outta here or he was going to go insane.

Dean had managed to do a little walking around. His other injuries hadn't made that any easier. His arm in its heavy cast was not helping with Dean slightly screwy balance. His ribs still hurt like hell, even though he was on some pretty heavy duty pain killers, so it was making his life mighty awkward.

Still he looked a little better as the bruising that had covered his body fading fast and the nasty cuts were healing fairly well.

This was what Dean considered fine. Sam had actually found dean scouring the papers for jobs the day, Sam had swiftly told Dean the score on that front. Dean had actually looked disappointed. What like Sam was ever gonna let him do a job now!

The man could barely make in to the bathroom for heaven sake!

Finally the doctor arrived to discuss Dean's discharge.

Dean had made some pretty enthusiastic comments about how he was going to end up dying of boredom if he didn't leave soon.

The doctor seemed to be contemplating Dean's impassioned pleas to let him 'outta this hell hole'.

Seeing the doctor's indecision Dean put his hand over and said in a stage whisper to Sam "The Eagle fly's tonight, I repeat, the Eagle fly's tonight."

Shoving Dean hard and raising his eyebrows with a slight head tilt that said 'stop the mocking or I'll tie you to that bed and leave you here' gave Dean the clue to shut-up sharpish! (But not without a complimentary eye-roll and a free head slap Dean obviously, lucky Sam.)

Sam just sat there trying to look mad when he was really thanking God for Dean being here, even I it was only to wind him up for the rest of his life. That was fine by Sammy.

Dean couldn't help but feel smug when the doctor said that his recovery had been pretty remarkable, and as long as he keep up with his outpatient appoints and had someone to look after him, Dean come go home.

Dean had whooped like a little girl.

And he didn't even care that his little brother has a really good laugh at his expense.

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As Sam drove up to pick Dean up from the entrance, his brothers face transformed into a look of wide-eyed horror.

'What the hell is he staring at?' Sam thought. Then he realised. He forgotten Dean hadn't got the whole story.

"SAM!" Dean cried, sounding a little too high pitched, "WHAT IN THE _HELL_ HAVE YOU DONE TO MY CAR?!"

Sam almost felt bad knowing he would have to tell his brother that _he_ had crashed his car, _almost_.

THE END

A/N: Well I finished my first multi-chaptered fic. I'm feeling kinda proud of myself right now! (Don't laugh!)

Thank for all the lovely reviews :-D

I will definitely be writing more 'cos I really enjoy it!

Big hugs to everyone!! Hope you enjoyed reading

P.S Big thanks to **ziggy.uk **for the scrubs thing, you inspired Sam-Dean waking up/first meeting scene!


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